


Tale of the Warden

by Hedgefox Kitsune (theshadeshadow)



Series: The Warden’s Journey [2]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hadrian and Zevran are bonded together, Hadrian grew up alongside both City & Dalish Elves, Hadrian is a hermaphrodite because magic, Hadrian was known as Havi when young, Harry is Hadrian, M/M, Zevran went by the cover name Ve as a young Crow, brief mention of MPreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21783307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theshadeshadow/pseuds/Hedgefox%20Kitsune
Summary: The Tale of the Warden, an Inquisitor, also Servant to Mythral.This is a tale of Hadrian the Grey Warden of the 5th blight, a True born elf.
Relationships: Zevran Arainai/Harry Potter, Zevran Arainai/Male Elf Warden
Series: The Warden’s Journey [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569823
Kudos: 7





	1. The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Tale of Hadrian on his Journey as a Grey Warden. The story is incomplete, with pieces cropping up all through this book. 
> 
> As I fill in this story I shall update you, my good readers, with the new content that has been added and which page it has been added too. 
> 
> Enjoy my Tale of the Warden.
> 
> Thank you.
> 
> Translations will be at the end, my friends.
> 
> Update: Separating the Story Pieces into their individual sections, they are a little smaller now, but the titles fit the scenarios better. No new content yet. But I am working on new parts to add to Warden Hadrians past before he ended up travelling beyond the Vale.

_ ** The beginning ** ** : ** _

_ They were tiny hands, such small hands that pressed almost desperately against the door, searching for a way out. A hot forehead rested above them, feverish and cold at the same time as panted breaths escaped into the air. _

_ He was sick. He was so very sick. Coughs erupted into the air, as little lungs tried desperately to shift sticky mucus, but his body was too weak.  _

_ Clouded green eyes, shiny with tears that did not fall, closed with resignation that such a young child should not feel. Letting his body slip down to the ground in defeat as a fist beat almost silently against the door once again that night.  _

_ Help me... _

–---¬=@;#<{+HP+DA+}>#;@¬-----

It was the unlocking of his door that woke the young boy from his slumber. Sitting up, messy hair fall into sleepy green eyes, as the child stared at the cupboard door curious and slightly nervous.

Then the wooden door swung open to reveal the strangest person he had ever seen.

This was a woman all dressed in black, white coloured hair so wild but cleverly tamed, for messy strands impressively styled in the shape of two horns came into view. Those fierce golden eyes, sharp as a hawks, looked down upon him as the tall strange lady tilted her head to the side in question. “A half-child?” She mused to herself as though expecting the air to answer her. “Yes, it is a child. Curious that a child of such power like yourself has been left in a place such as this.”

Then came the thumping and creaking of the stairs above the young boys head, his caretakers were clearly awake. Shrinking back, eyes wide, the child tried to fold himself into the smallest space that was possible inside of the room, for which a tiny underfed seven years old could fit. Something that was clearly amusing if the brief huff of laughter, which came from the woman in the black leather and metal clothing, was any indication. She then tilted her head away and turned narrowed eyes in the direction of the heavy thumping footsteps.

“You! You dare!” Came from beyond the open doorway to the next room where the lady stood. It seemed if Uncle Vernon was finally downstairs and not happy about the stranger in his home.

“Oh, I _**dare**_.” She turned fully away, straightening up out of this small space to her full intimidating height to face his uncle who was just beyond his tiny doorway. “You see, I found a precious gift. One you threw away.”

“What-do-you-want- **witch**...”

“What do I want? I want a lot of things.” The woman chuckles again, but this time there was an undertone of impatience to it. “But nothing you can offer me.”

“ **Leave**.”

“Give me the Child.”

“No. Get-out!”

“Stubborn **fool**.” She turned away from him, golden eyes settling back upon the child’s own green eyes and at that moment a yelp was heard before a splintering of wood could be heard within the distance. “Humans are such fickle creatures, such ignorant beasts when they are faced against power greater than their own.”

Then she reached out with a hand towards him, whose body shivered in a weird tension. “Come.”

Messy curled dark near black locks of hair shifted with the shake of the child’s head, eyes wide with fear, uncertainty and weirdly a little curiosity. Part of the boy was drawn to the woman due to the ability she had just shown and the feeling of the power that had just come from the non-verbal push that sent his Uncle flying.

“No harm will come to you child. I seek only to find that which has now been found. So come along, I have a place you shall go, somewhere a child can grow.”

He could not resist, there was something about this woman, something ancient but familiar that tugged at the boy to come to her. A feeling that somewhere deep inside a part of him was **the same**.

Chest heaving, eyes wide, slowly he moved.

Green eyes firmly upon her own as a tiny hand slipped within her long claw-like hand. Yet from a second glance, it became clear they were only fingernails, grown long and sharp, black as the darkness where no light could shine. That mocking smile she had turned towards his Uncle had shifted, now warm and inviting. “That’s right. Come, child. There is a great distance we must travel.” She straightened up one more time and turned towards the front door, his hand curled delicately within her own.

The green-eyed boy stepped out of the cupboard tense, nervous about being out where he didn’t belong. But curiosity was stronger than the fear and was leading the child out into the unknown with the lady at his side. Green eyes looked upwards, following at her side. “ _Travel_?” His quiet voice broke the silence.

She nodded, eyes gleaming with satisfaction, the golden iris’s seeming to glow for a quick second or two. She spoke again, voice lifted in amusement, as she cleverly directed them both out of the house. Not quick enough if the glimpse of red was still caught by the corner of one green eye, but when the child turned to view what he had glimpsed, it was too late they were outside missing the entire thing.

“Ah. But I know a trick, a way through the barrier.” Her voice drew him back, his head turning to look upon the woman once more. “Do not be afraid. I know a different way.”

She stopped and turned to face him, her arm suddenly grasping around his stomach, pulling the boys back to her chest. The child panicked about being so close to another being tried to pull away, fingers scratching at the hold around his waist, when stiffening, all instincts told him to go silent and still. Under his green-eyed gaze, the lady's skin and clothing turned burning white. Flinching his eyes turned away, landing back upon the house, his young body frozen with fear.

Stumbling, arm over her shoulder supporting him, stood his Aunt and Uncle. Vernon, a beefy man with a low neck, brown hair and mustache, looked awful. Blood was running down his head, an arm and part of his chest. Clothing was ripped and torn and stained with a whitish powder that must have come from his impact from the wall and door. Petunia, on the other hand, a thin necked lady with piercing eyes, was white. Face pale as she helped her husband to walk.

“Potter! Get away from her!” Bellowed the furious, and surprisingly terrified, Uncle as he staggered forward. “Give the boy back right this instant!”

If this had been any other instance, any other person or time, maybe this would have been the start of a new beginning for the family. A new seeding being planted in what had seemed like a barren land, as for the first time Uncle Vernon was terrified. Not because of his own life, but because he knew the woman was taking away the nephew he thought he had hated until this very moment.

“Harry...” That is all Petunia got to say, a fearful single word of his name. The child, who finally learned his full name for the first time, Harry Potter gazed at the two of them in shock, before suddenly everything _**erupted**_.

Fire. Screams. Blood coating the ground.

A tiny cry came from his throat, fingers tightening over the scales of the claw that held him secure. Then with a mighty gust of wind, they were aloft, a boy who finally had a name and the woman who became a dragon.

–---¬=@;#<{+HP+DA+}>#;@¬-----


	2. Denerim’s Estate, Trauma Awaits

_Denerim’s Estate, Right before becoming a Grey Warden: Hadrian_

Wide eyes watched in disbelief from his cell as the body was just tossed onto the floor. The crunch from the skull hitting grey stone flooring was entirely too apparent, as slender fingers tightened instinctively around specific bars from the jail the elves had all been placed within until the master was  _ ready _ for them. The laughter and insulting voices from those guards appeared to inherently fade into the background. Concerned green-eyes could barely watch that tiny figure roll once again across the ground before skidding into a halt adjacent to the cell. 

Kneeling downward, reaching out with an arm, tried in vain to reach, he  _ needed _ to protect them. Suddenly  _ pain  _ as his arm was kicked pointedly with an ironclad foot. Twisting backwards Hadrian recoiled, glancing up at the sneering features from one of the guards. That man sniffed while peering downward at whatever the black-haired male had been trying to grab. Next with a chuckle unbolted the cell, stretched in to seize and haul the elf out by his hair. 

Panting breaths of fright escaped, while fingers clutched around meaty wrists. Before the black-haired elf was deposited upon the ground at the human’s feet. Glancing nearby at his fellow elves, still secured within the cell, who stared back with fearful wide eyes. There happened to additionally be a lot of guards around him, some which looked interested by this change of events, yet others that simply were not impressed either looked elsewhere or marched out of the room.

Getting up into a kneeling position, glanced up through his hair toward the man, who dangled something high above the elf’s head. Peeking up for a long-drawn moment, stretched up with an expression of distress. However, he was cuffed back down by a harsh fist. “Ah, ah, knife-ear. Want it? You have to earn it.” 

Peering upwards again at that face, shook his head uncomprehending. “I do not understand master.” 

Again Hadrian’s hair was seized by an ironclad fist and clutched hard, drawing the elf’s face upwards, before a finger traced underneath his neck and chest. “You have to earn it knife ear, get it?” Oh, this elf defiantly received the message.

At such a brief second, when Hadrian had been drawn near to the male guard, he had finally been pulled close enough to get to the human’s weapon strapped on his right side. The left hand, meanwhile, remained clamped over the fist clutching his hair to reduce the tension. A vacant smile suddenly snaked over his expression, while elegant fingers silently slid the knife from its sheath on the guard’s side. Unnerved a little the man moved away, an uncertain expression on his face before a startled look emerged for a brief moment.

Shifting out of the others hold, slipped the dagger out of the human’s side from below the ribs. Turning towards the jail, while the chamber began to reverberate amidst the noises of the guard’s fellow humans, threw the keys inside the cell and then twisted back to confront the advancing hostile army of men to deal with them. 

Hadrian had some carnage to be getting on with, those souls held no salvation in his eyes toward what they had done. These people ** , they had  ** ** murdered ** **** ** his ** **** ** infant ** ** ,  ** and  ** an elves wrath would make sure everyone was deceased before this day was done ** , no matter if you were human, elf, dwarf or qunari.

Proceeding forward, lifted the blade towards the slowly advancing guards and hell descended inside the chamber. Injuries were soon spread across various sections of his body, but the elf was still standing. Though panting amidst the effort. 

Turning towards where Hadrian had dropped the first human, wandered over and bent near their side. Here lying upon the cold-stone close to the guard entirely contorted and broken, the elf finally saw his baby. The local lord had snatched the infant from his arms while the arrogant man had knocked Hadrian out and transported them both here. The dark-haired elf was meant to live a sexual captive. Furthermore, the baby’s worth comprised being nothing more than a blood sacrifice to be traded off. But the guards had ended everything by their reckless treatment of the infant. Hearing that sound, the strange crunching of his child’s throat because they hit the stone-floor head first had fractured something inside of him. Mainly because Hadrian had been the one to carry the child to term, being a rare hermaphrodite. 

Slipping his hands beneath the child, raised them delicately up to lean upon his breast. Fingers brushed carefully over those diminutive features, as that tiny body lay there limply, blood coated their lips and nostrils, while eyes gazed forwards half-open. While monitoring that little chest, Hadrian could hear that the heart and lungs were soundless, no breath or beat of life. 

At this confirmation of the infant’s death, tears then began to trail down his face. Looking around, then spotted a somewhat clean sheet upon a wooden table. Standing up from the ground, moved beside it and carefully lay the baby upon it, fingers trailing down those tiny features. Staring down, focus fixated upon the infant, the dark-haired elf soon felt the others come up behind him. 

No words were uttered, just a hand placed upon his shoulder in silent shared grief. A second elf pressed their head against his own. While the first meticulously wrapped the little one up. Next, with the help of each other, the elven maidens fastened the cocooned bundle against his chest, knotting the sheet so it would not come loose. 

“So, what is the plan?” One questioned, after the last knot was finished, her hands dropping to her side, golden braids shifting with her tilted head. 

Hadrian shifted to glance at them both, tears still silently trailing down pale cheeks, a blank expression still upon his face. “I am going into the castle and making sure no elf ever loses another child to these humans.  ** Ever again ** .” He lifted a hand and placed it upon one of the elf maidens shoulders. “You should find a way out, this is not going to be a safe place for you before long.”

Then with that, left. Walked out of the door into the main castle, dagger in hand. Child swaddled against his chest, vengeance burning within. Vaughan would die for this, nothing else would satisfy this deeply burning rage. 

A bloodbath followed. Every room Hadrian went into, bodies followed. Red had fallen over his gaze, and anyone who came into his view was a target. It was horrifying, but for Hadrian? satisfying. His child, his pride and joy, was dead. The man responsible was within reach and anyone who got in the way? Well, they were just collateral damage. There was no care for innocent life in his actions, no care that most of the guards were just doing their jobs, he just wanted to kill them all.

Finally, coming up to the final door and hearing a distressed female voice from behind the wooden barrier spurred him into moving quicker. Unlocking the lock with the key, opened the door and walked into the room, daggers in both hands trailing blood behind him. So covered in other peoples life-blood was the elf that it formed a trail through the entire castle. 

Solis, who Hadrian had met up within the castle earlier in the day, hopped over the trail with a pale face. Long-sword held tightly in his left hand and a wooden shield in the other. 

“Well, I thought I had heard a commotion. It would seem you are the cause.” From a room at the back came a gentleman, again dressed in iron-armour. The brown-hair coloured human gave a smirk, as he pulled the missing elf maiden from behind him. “Is this what you have been searching for knife-ear? Enough to slaughter my men?” 

He tossed her forward, to land upon the ground face first. “Well, I have a deal for you.” There were heavy footsteps of multiple people before the main door behind Hadrian was suddenly locked and bolted. Glancing slightly backwards acknowledged two humans who stood obstructing the main doorway. “I am not an unreasonable man. I am easily pleased. There are three choices for you.” A smirk crawled across the Vaghan’s face. The black-haired elf turned to look back at the human with a vacant expression.

“Number one, you take 40 gold, leave us alive, leave the woman here and leave the city for good, never to return.” 

Solis moved closer, turning to face the two humans who moved slowly towards them. “I do not like this  _ Hadri _ ...”

“Number two,  _ you elf _ **** take the place of the woman. Everyone else goes home, and the whole matter is settled with the payment of yourself in every way I can make you  _ pay _ for the lives you have taken.

“Number three, we fight, and one of us ends up dead.” The man opened his arms, tilting his head slightly to the side. “You decide, but tick-tock, clocks ticking.”

“No.” His voice was quiet. His head was down, dark strands covering over closed green-eyes.

“Hm?” That smirk slipped a little. As the man narrowed his eyes in slight confusion.

“Why would I ever deal with you.” The elf looked up, a deadly glare aimed straight at that human across from him, as he lifted his weapons in hand upwards. “When you are the reason why my child is dead!” With that, Hadrian charged, an angry yell escaping him. 

They fought, it was a short, painful, extremely bloody battle and nobody escaped unharmed. Blades swung, blood coated the ground and yells echoed. Grunts became commonplace, as the dinging and clanging of a knife against blade-edge became a symphony. Then, the man became cornered, his companions dead, one stabbed through, another neck sliced, and so Hadrian advanced, the man retreated slowly panting. Eyes twitched to the side, then his hand swung out, “Wait!” 

The elf didn’t, caging in the man, blade forcing the others back, aimed at the human’s neck, “ _ Please _ , not in front of my child.” and Hadrian stopped.

“What?!” Green eyes stared down at earthy brown skeptical, the man pointed over to the intersecting room. Stepping back, letting the other slip down to the ground, moved in that direction. Entering the adjacent room was shocked to see a crib in the room. An expression of grief painted itself on his face as the Hadrian stopped in front of the tiny bed, dropping one of the daggers on to the ground absentmindedly as he reached forward to stroke the sleeping child’s face. 

“Look out!” Solis’s voice rang out. Reacting, swung out with the remaining dagger and caught the flesh of Vaghan’s throat. The spray coated the elf as the two stared for a long second at one another before with a silent “you win.” the man toppled over  _ dead _ . 

–---¬=@;#<{+HP+DA+}>#;@¬-----


	3. Warden’s Duel & Assassin’s Plan

_ After the destruction of Lothering _ _ :  _ _ Hadrian _

"You are good, but I can teach you to be better."

Turning sharply, Hadrian looked at the assassin standing behind him with wary eyes. One blade had fallen somewhat, with the tip facing down toward the direction of his body. The second blade had intuitively risen towards the voice which had intruded into his practice.

"What?" It was a bewildered yet inquisitive tone that the black-haired elf spoke with. Last he remembered the other had been at the campsite with the group, unwinding while the assassin could. Yet the blond was standing mere feet away from him in a deceptively neutral stance, for Hadrian knew how silent and fast the blond elf could move when needed.

Tilting his head to the side, pointed at the other elf with a frown, as he pushed long strands of hair back that had escaped their tieback, "what are you offering assassin?" it didn't faze the other though.

The male just smiled, turned and sauntered around the still warden. "Training. No? It is something you are clearly in a desperate need of, yet the others are not... suited to our particular skill set." A hand rose, gesturing with a flourish, while bowing his head slightly forward, turning to look through his eyelashes at the black elf.

With a swallow this made the warden turn away, a hand came up to rub the back of the elf's neck tip of his ears turning a gentle red.

Of course, this was all part of the other's nature to flirt with others, Hadrian knew that well. Yet even remembering this, every time even a small amount of flirtation was indeed hinted at in his direction made the warden turn away flustered, he didn't know how to handle such attention. It wasn't embarrassment, not fully, hurt did that to a person, shut them off and made someone wary of anyone who tried to come close. "I shall thank you, but no. I am fine." Green eyes glanced back at the other, lips pinched in distaste.

The corners of the blond's mouth turned up. "A wager then. Spar with me. Who shall ever win will abide by the others terms."

Now, this was interesting, "what are to be the terms?" He knew it was stupid, but it had been so long since the darker elf had even had a chance to unwind and relax. There was even hint of an opportunity for a bargain in the aftermath of this bargaining process.

"Nothing you will not agree to, Yes? If I win, we will train together every third day and practice every other night. But you win? We forget this little wager. You agree, no?" A hand was gently held out into the air between them both, a sly smile playing upon the blond's lips.

The warden eyed the blond for a long second, instinctively knowing the other more than likely had a plan set in motion if he took the deal. But this bargain was a far too tempting stress release, to spar with someone without any risk of death, after eyeing the hand being held in the air for a moment stepped forward, his eyes locking with Zev's. "Very well, Zevran, you have your agreement." With a firm nod, clasped the others hand, next the black elf was firmly yanked close to the blond, making Hadrian tense in startled recognition, as the slightly taller elf spoke softly into his ear.

"I look forward to our next little rendezvous _**la mia ombra**_."

–---¬=@;#<{+HP+DA+}>#;@¬-----


	4. Denerim’s Broken Memories

_The City of Denerim for The Landsmeet Meeting: Hadrian_

Denerim, after a long, long time, they had returned. Green eyes observed nearby human's with distaste, fingers tightening around the weapons tied to his hips.

Alistair moved closer to Hadrian's side, somewhat unnerved by the looks the party were being sent from the residents of the city. "We should move onward warden. Let us look for the Alienage where your family resides."

Morrigan meanwhile just glared back, sparks flickering in the air around her and making those who were glaring clear off in a sudden hurry. "Piteous fools. To hate what is not understood. Mayhap I should teach them to truly fear?"

"Now, why do that? They are just scared, like little children, really." Turning the black-haired elf eyed the brown-haired, blue-eyed bard of the group gave a gentle smile in the warden's direction, before spotting some more people staring in their direction Leliana gave a sharper smile in return. They didn't stay staring for long.

Zevran's shoulder brushed his own, then leaned gently against Hadrian. Clearly noticing the cold, almost detached look upon the shorter elf's face. The blacked haired elf looked up at the blond and found a narrow-eyed searching look focused upon him. Looking away from the other male in the direction of the Alienage, Hadrian felt...relieved, like the wait was almost over and he could finally, finally release this pain.

Coming to the gates, they moved inside, but something was wrong.

Homes were ransacked, broken, contents strewn across the ground. Elven folk were huddled together or lying against the walls, bandaged or cradling broken wound's. What got him though as he looked around as they walked was, where were the children? Where was… his…

Stopping the warden cradled his forehead. Shaking his head left and right.

Then looking upward, realized hands were on his shoulders. Looking into concerned faces of his companions gave a grim smile before patting an arm in thanks. Taking in his surroundings, Hadrian realized this had been his home when the young elf had lived in the city part of the time.

Taking in a breath to calm his nerves, headed inside to look for his father.

What waited to be found ...

_Held nothing but_ _broken_ _memories_.

Many months had passed, but there was no reunion to be had here. Just the scent of flesh rotting in the stagnating air and a corpse decomposing in the main room, sword embedded through the torso into the floor. It was only when Hadrian got closer that recognition set in, the woven bracelet around the dead elf's arm, this was the keepsake given to the warden's father. This was his papa.

"A...da?" A stuttered question, as he knelt beside the corpse in disbelief, trailing green eyes over the lifeless body. Then the elf looked over the sword, before finally spying the crest on the hilt.

_**It was the Earl of Denerim's coat of arms**_.

Fingers reached up and traced the engraving, disbelieving. "Is there no-one left they will not _take_?" Broke the dark-haired elf's voice on the last word.

Arms came round and drew him back against a leather-clad body, who was kneeling behind him. They leaned in a nuzzled into the side of Hadrian's neck and face, cuddling as they tried to offer comfort. An Armoured hand came down and gripped firmly on his shoulder, squeezing. Gentle hands gripped his left hand as Leliana bowed her head and murmured a prayer softly to the air, and behind he could feel Morrigan keeping watch while she stood vigil over the situation so it would not get disturbed.

But while all that went on, Hadrian stared down at his father who had been murdered. Then observed the crest with a building rage in his gaze, to kill the Earl for this transgression. If the Earl had sent people after him that would have been fine, the warden could protect himself, but to mutilate and leave his father to die a long, slow and painful death? That had done nothing but signed the man's own death. Which he would make sure to deliver _**tonight**_.

Turning into Zev's embrace, gripped onto his hand's while turning his face into the other elf's. While closing his eyes in stifled pain and anger.

He could wait, only a few hours and the man would pay, dearly.


	5. Vengeance Done, but Pain still Comes

Denerim Estate, Midnight: Hadrian

Staring at the man who had been the bane of the Denerim City Elves existence for longer than Hadrian had been alive made this moment almost poetic.

Moving up onto the bed, stepping lightly with his natural-born lightness, settled kneeling over the man. Tilting his head, the green-eyed elf surveyed the sleeping human, unimpressed. Before reaching back and slipping the jagged knife out, the same type as the sword that had killed his father and had killed the Earl's son all those years ago.

Lifting it up high, waited a moment as the Earl shifted, settling once more. Before finally plunging down through the chest.

A chocked cry echoed into the air, as the man tried to rise up in defence. But Hadrian had been precise in his attack. When he had struck, the blade had sliced through the lungs of the Earl, this way the man could not breath properly to fight back or call for help. Plus, the elf was sitting on his arms to make sure the man could not get up. Tilting his head as the human struggled, shushed him with a finger to the older man's lips, before covering lips and nose with a strip of cloth and a deadly gaze.

"Do you want to know why you are dying?" Hadrian spoke calmly to the panicked human who could not breathe. "You killed my father, left him to die in agony. So I am repaying the debt you created." Then leaned forward to speak into the Earl's ear. "This is your reward." And gave a grin.

The Earl thrashed around, desperately trying to escape. But soon movements began to fade, as the man's body began to give up, and Hadrian decided to finish it. Gripping the human's hair wrenched their head back and sliced that vulnerable throat before the human could recover in any shape.

Sitting back, looked down at the dying body and realized he didn't feel any better or relieved. The elf just felt lost now his vengeance was complete.

Turning blinked at the leaning figure of Zevran against the wall near the window. The other's face was shuttered, as the blond watched the black elf.

Getting off the bed walked over to the taller elf, sighing leaned his head forward with a thump against the assassin's chest, hands came up and fisted the leather material. "Why do I not feel better, Zev?"

One arm came round and drew him close, as Zev rested his head upon Hadrian's. "Vengeance, harsh business. Never satisfy's the soul only makes it break for pain, you cannot let go. You need to grieve warden."

Green-eyes closed as he shook his head. "What if I cannot let go?"

"Then you will be consumed by the hatred. Your magic and instinct will rule you instead." Fingers ran down his head, through strands of hair.

Green-eye's reopened as a frown appeared. "Would anyone believe me if I told the truth?" Even mages were disbelieving at first at the time.

"You can only but try, no? Tis it not hard to try to trust someone just once?"

A smile crept up as he leaned back and looked up at those golden eyes. A head shake was all the expression Hadrian could give. "Why didn't you strike assassin? You had the perfect opportunity, and I knew you had the weapon out to kill me just now."

Fingers lifted and cupped a pale cheek stilling all the dark-haired elf's movement. "Because Havi you were always precious la mia ombra and that never changed. It took me time to recognize you."

Hadrian lowed his head as he spoke in a tense voice. "Then I suppose you should know. Though I do not know how you shall react."

"There was a child I carried, one I loved. For seven whole months, she was mine. My little Mina. Then they killed her. Snapped her like a twig. I could do nothing. I was helpless like a pup. My magic was bound, my skills were subpar, and I, I was weak. For you see, I fed my magic to the child to make her strong, and it drained me to near-nothingness. But she had been strong, so strong. But then nothing. She was gone. My… my child, they killed her."

He sank into Zevran's grip, shivering. Staring outwards into nothing, seeing into the past when he carried the wrapped the body of the child to her resting place and burned it, to protect her soul from ever being touched by mages or scavengers of the wilds.

Fingers touched his face and lifted, they were wet. Hadrian was silently crying. The elf couldn't scream, yell or loudly cry about this, the hurt was ingrained too deep. All he could do was grieve quietly inside and hope it would get easier with time.

Zevren detached himself carefully, lifting up to the window. Reaching down, held out a hand. "Come, Amore, others will wonder where we have gone, no? Let us get home to the camp."

–---¬=@;#<{+HP+DA+}>#;@¬-----


	6. Darkness watches & waits.  Soon, Soon.

_ Within an  _ _ Underground Cavern. Date unknown:  _

Arms throbbed in pain, from the rips in the flesh. Sword drawn wounds, open to the flesh and muscle. A hiss escaped clamped lips, teeth gritted together from blinding agony. Poison working its way through, tearing down defences slowly, very slowly.

Swinging around on one foot, kicking outwards. The leather-clad limb caught the other between the legs, the weakest point. A strained grunt escaped them, falling to armoured knee and blade rushed forward cutting the throat freely.

Blood gushed forward, staining leather red and armoured hands grasped uselessly, already dead.

The last one fell. All were dead.

–---¬=@;#<{+HP+DA+}>#;@¬-----

_ Underground Cavern. Wardens Party:  _

The group sighed in relief and made their way east to the mouth of the cave.

“Am I glad that is over.” The blond muttered under his breath.

“Ohh? Where the big bad darkspawn too much for your delicate muscles to handle?” Chuckled the black-clad female at the back of the group.

“Nooo.” Armour scraped together as the male turned to look partially back to the trail they had walked. Scouting for new enemies that may have been following in their wake. And sighed, “Again? Are you going to turn the words I speak into your own personal amusement Morrigan?”

“Well, I wouldn’t, if you were not so easy to tease Alistair. Just the right words and you act like an imbecile.” She swung the staff onto her back and tightened the hardened leather around it carefully, knowing full well that they could be attacked at any moment and her power would be needed again.

“Oh yes, just pick on me. Push me around like the wretch you are, milady of the wilds.” He huffed in amusement. Arms shrugging upwards to try to loosen the weight of the armour while teasingly throwing some of the blood on his hands towards the woman.

She wrinkled her nose at him, lips twisting in disgust. While her red eyes mocked him, laughing at his reaction to her words.

Beside them, moving his arms back and forth. While stretching the muscles carefully in measured movements was another male figure, who then stopped and crouched. Fingers ghosting across the ground with sharp eyes seeing what others could not. Tilting his head. Long blond strands shifted position, revealing a pointed ear to those who were watching.

“I do not mean to interrupt your seeming lover's talk. But it seems there to be signs of a new patrol on the path ahead.” He looked sidewards, tilting his head towards the two. A smirk playing upon sinful lips, as honeyed eyes glanced up and down the man’s fine form.

“Oh yes, very good.” Alistair marched past, a hand grabbing the helmet on his belt. Putting it on, he hoisted his shield and sword, ready for the next bloody battle.

“Well, I do hope it is not a Tuesday. I truly would not want to wake with a severed arm or limb, if you please.” He mused thoughtfully, twirling the sword around in a circle playfully.

“I do not know Alistair, perhaps you should give a dance to draw their attention to you,” Morrigan smirked, one hand upon the staff on her back. Ready to draw it in the instance she needed it.

“Why yes…” The blonde’s sarcastic voice rang out as hurlocks appeared around the bend in the cavern tunnel, “I should twirl and dance and let the darkspawn howl themselves silly with laughter.”

Flipping one dagger point down, the elf darted forward. Sliding easily through the ranks to get behind the one that had rushed the swordsman with a bellow of rage. Twirling round in a half-circle, he buried the daggers to the hilt in the necks of two enemies, easing the battle by a margin.

“Perhaps, you could dance and dismember together my friend.” Spoke the long blond as he ducked a swing from a Greatsword and jumped a sweep of a long blade at the same time.

“Really, so I should _strut and flutter my eyelashes, waving my dress from side to side_ .” His voice picked up with a high pitched false tone that clearly was meant to represent a female’s voice. “ _While sliding a blade between their ribs_? Really Zevran. I think not.”

“I think you would look very dashing in a dress dear Alistair, it would certainly bring out your eyes.” Morrigan cackled, as fire struck down and spread outwards, lighting all on fire and causing the companions to make a swift retreat away from the line of attack.

The blond male swung his sword around and then through the belly of another Hurlock in his way, that screeched in a dying yell. Bringing up his shield, he deflected the new attack while sighing in response to the words spoken.

“Really? Why is it always me?” He muttered, “Am I really so easy to make fun of?”

The last Hurlock then fell, falling forward and revealing the arrow in its neck. From behind, leaning against the wall, looking tired was another elf. Smiling grimly, he nodded in response to the swordsman’s question. “Yes, you are. But it cheers us up when we need it. Though, you are not the only one that gets the brunt of the jokes, Leliana does as well.”

Zevran strode out of the shadows silently. His body seeming to form as he came into the light as though made from shadows. While daggers dripped a mixture of red and black were held in one hand. The long blond-haired elf finished wrapping a strip of clean cloth around a deep cut in his upper arm. As golden brown eyes carefully surveyed the group.

“The last are dead. Tried to run, but I caught them.” His eyes gleamed with the thrill of a hunt gone well. “Mayhap we can find a place to set up camp soon, yes? The darkness is ahead of us on this day.”

Green eyes flicked over to the other elf and his grim smile turned into a gentle grin. “Got them all did you assassin?”

“Yes. They were quick, but I, am quicker.” The blond elf spoke with confidence lit to his voice. “After all, the crows need to do their work well to escape a flogging for failure.”

“Sounds just terrible that does. Do they really flog you for a mistake?” Alistair murmured, sliding his sword home into the leather scabbard with a click.

The witch lifted a vial to her lips and took a sip, shuddering and smiling as the potion did its work to heal the wounds on her body.

“Interesting… I think I want to meet these crow masters of yours elf.” Morrigan looked far too interested for the human males' comfort and he moved to put the elves between himself and the female.

“You, my lady, scare me.”

“Such flattery Alistair.” The wild’s witch laughed, amused with his reaction.

Green eyes rolled, amusement showing on his face as he listened to the two human’s banter. Tilting his head, he gave a toothy grin towards Zevran while waggling his dark eyebrows. The blond elf chuckled in return.

Stepping up to the other male, the crow assassin threw the black-haired elf’s arm over his shoulder and took some of the wardens’ weight, knowing earlier that the younger one had been clipped in the leg by one of the poison blades. And even though the wound had been treated for poison and healed by magic. The feeling of the cut and the hurt that had been there still throbbed through the muscle. For the body did not forget wounds, as readily as magic took them away.

“They never stop…” Spoke the dark-haired elf with a fond smile.

“Hm?” Grunted Zevran in question.

“Alistair and Morrigan. They never stop arguing.” Green eyes glanced over at the assassin, while the elf tried to walk as gently as possible on the throbbing calf muscle of his leg. He was also trying not to lean too much on the taller blond at his side, but the other just gave him an irritated glance and decided to pick green eyes up bridle style.

“Zevran!” He yelped, clinging to the other in shock at the sudden change in his balance.

“You are so hard-headed my friend.” Spoke Zevran with a grin. “Perhaps you could just lay back and enjoy the ride, yes?” 

“Put, me, down.” The dark-haired elf was glaring at the other now, not amused in the slightest.

But the assassin just laughed, while leaning down and brushing lips across that sweat beaded brow under his chin. “Hadrian, you are always so prideful. Let me carry you, at least for today amore.”

The dark-haired elf’s eyes were wide, staring at the blond with surprise. Then his lips twitched into a grin before laying his head on a strong shoulder. “Fine,” Hadrian grumbled, as he closed his tired eyes.

“Always so proud. But accepting help does not make you weak, no?”

“Shut up you.” The black-haired elf muttered back, shifting his face into the blonds neck and shoulder area. “Don't make me smack you, cheeky.” 

“Such harsh words my own. You can be so cruel.” Said Zev with a forlorn sigh.

This attracted the attention of Morrigan and Alistair who stopped and looked forward at the other two. Alistair tilted his head, eyebrows raised in both question and curiosity. “Well, that's not something you see every day.” Spoke the blond human. The corner of his lips turned upward into a smile, eyes crinkling with laughter lines.

“Hmmm... yes. Our Warden certainly does not like to show weakness, does he not?” Replied the witch with a slight smile. Alister just grinned at her, carefully rotating his arm around in a circle under the heavy armour as he tried to loosen the tight muscles of his elbow. The weight of holding the iron sword for hours had begun to make his arm ache.

“Zevran! See if you can spot a place to camp out would you?” He called, as the swordsman stopped and stared back the way they had come. His fingers tightened around the sword's hilt as he lifted his shield up into a guard position. “Morrigan and I shall stay here to deal with the darkspawn.”

“What?!” The black elf looked up eyes wide. His hand gripped Zev's left shoulder as Hadrian looked back at the two humans in horror. “No! I shall stay and fight with you.”

“Hadrian...” Groaned Alister as he turned to stare at the black-haired elf with a severe frown. “You cannot.”

Zevran gritted his teeth as he wrestled with the wriggly lithe body of his partner, who was determined to get down and face the enemy head-on once again. “ _Amore_!” He snapped, causing the elf to freeze and look up with wide eyes.

“Enough...” Breathed the blond, pressing a gentle kiss to Hadrian's forehead. “You need to rest.”

“I'm fine Zev.” Those bright green eyes gently smiled. “It doesn't even hurt any-more.”

“My own.” Zevran shook his head. Shifting the elf's body slightly, he raised his hand up to eye level, fingers coated in red. “Your healed skin has split. I can bind it, but rest will be best to stop the bleeding.”

Green eyes stared in horrified silence at the glistening liquid coating bronze coloured fingers. Swallowing, he nodded relenting to their wishes while relaxing back into Zevran's hold.

“Very well...” the black elf frowned, “but you, my king, better make it back alive.” 

“Oh, I shall make it so,” says Morrigan with a twisted smile. “Upon our return, he shall be unharmed and still whining as ever.”

“I do ** not  ** whine...” Said Alistair with a pout, as he turned and began walking back towards the tunnel the party had come from.

“My dear Alistair, yes you do.”

“ _No, I don't_.” The swordsman sang back at her in playfulness, his voice fading into the distance as they walked away from the two elves.

“Oh! So, you do not whine about there being too many darkspawn and not enough cheese…?” Was the last they heard as Zevran and Hadrian made their way further into the caverns ahead.


	7. Separation Hurts more when Torn Apart

_Deep within the Thaig with Zevran and the Warden: _

A hiss escaped as Hadrian was placed upon the ground of the side cave, away from the main cavern. It was large enough to hold all four of them easily, along with a campfire and still have room to move easily. The black elf's hand pressed harder down upon his wound as blood pooled up between parted fingers though the sodden bandaging.

The hardened leather armour, spelled against damage or was meant to be, had been split jaggedly by a coarse blade which had splinted off at the end. That darkspawn had been very lucky to get off such a hit before the daggers of the crow had embedded themselves in the infected creature's skull and ended its life for hurting his partner.

But as the blond elven had taken down the creature of the spawn, a shard of the sword broke off, as the beast fell to the assassin's blades as they tasted blood. It was this novice mistake that had ended up wounding the black elf badly, tearing the skin and slicing deep into the muscle where the piece of the festering blade now resided. It had near cost the black-haired elf his legs. To never walk again would have devastated the forest loving creature for the rest of his natural life. This didn't include the impact it had on Zevran when he saw Hadrian collapse with neither sound nor movement, it was like the spirit of life had been cut and all that was left behind was the body.

Thankfully he was still alive. The shard had done a lot of damage but a potion helped to patch up the wound somewhat to allow him to walk and fight without collapsing. But without getting him to a healer there was no telling how bad the situation they were in could get, trapped down a cavern system, below the earth in a Dwarfen Thaig…

“This is the most idiotic thing you have ever done, yes?”

Pale lips slowly moved up into a gentle smile. Watching as the blond gave a grunt as he kneeled down beside the other elf. “Maybe not the most idiotic.” He muttered, shaking his head with a sniggering laugh.

“ _Amore_ , No laughing at this elf. Not when he holds all your prayers within.” Said Zevren with a wriggle of his eyebrows.

The black-haired elf let the blond reposition his hands from their place over his wound on his leg, to around the wound itself, fingers red and sticky with old and new blood. “Really now, you are making me very intrigued sir elf.” The wounded elf tilted his head to the side a teasing smile on his lips, as he tried to ignore the flashes of pain as the other cleaned his wound as they bantered back and forth.

Then the gentle laughter cut with a hiss as the black-haired male winced, fingers white from where they pressed tightly against the skin of his thigh around the wound. New lengths of cotton linen strips and roughly square-cut pieces of fabric, all sterilized in boiling water had been packed over the wound, helping to keep the air away from the open flesh and allow the party at a later time to remove the shard of sword without having to open the skin once it had healed anew.

“You are ok now, _la mia ombra_ , yes?” Queried the blond quietly, as the last strips were firmly tightened over the wound to keep it from being contaminated from the surrounding area any more than it could have been. A gentle hand reached forward and ran his knuckles down smooth cheeks, causing green eyes to lift and to catch onto golden irises which looked worriedly at the ground-bound Warden.

“I shall be fine, Zev. I am not going anywhere see?” The black-haired male shrugged, breaking the stare the two elves had been locked within. Reaching over to the side, Hadrian pulled his daggers and bow over, holding them in a tense grip as he held them in his lap. “I will be sure to keep my weapons close at hand at all times.”

“I know you shall, but let me help you at least tie on your daggers _amore_. It will make me feel more at ease knowing you are at least equipped, while I go scouting for dangers abound.” Zevran tilted his head, smiling cheekily as he reached down and gripped the daggers, pulling them out of the slacked grip of the gently laughing Hadrian. Leaning forward, the blond elf gently rubbed his nose against the other elfs making the green-eyed one duck away eyes shut. The taller elf carefully tied the daggers to the belts that crisscrossed over the black male's chest.

Making sure the knots were tight, but easy to undo in an emergency or need to do maintenance. The blond then helped to fit the bow and quiver stuffed full of many different arrows (like magic, poison & normal) before leaning back to nudge his head into the black-haired elf’s and nuzzle the others forehead murmuring affection into the other's hair. The other black-haired elven kin just shook his head in bemusement, huffing in stifled laughter.

The two look a long few seconds just breathing together, eyes closed before the elder moved away. Those green eyes opened and he tilted his head to the side. Zev just shook his head and curved his arm under a hip while the other went over the other side to help direct the black elf down onto his side. For a long moment, the younger resisted, just staring up at the Crow Assassin, before a smile overtook that young-looking face and the blond leaned down slightly. “ _Ora di riposo. Riproduci in seguito_?”

His eyes went wide, Hadrian swallowed, then nodded before the warden followed the blond's direction and lay down on his side, allowing the stressed leg to rest unheeded from pressure and weight of his body. Tired eyes watched the honey eyed blond nod at his figure before straightening, turning away and walking towards the entrance. Then with a sudden run leapt up the wall and seemed to vanish into the shadows at the top of the cavern wall.

–---¬=@;#<{+HP+DA+}>#;@¬-----

_ Half an Hour Later:  _

Half an hour soundlessly passes while Warden Hadrian sleeps, knowing the Assassin patrols the halls of the Thaig. _Then…_

Breathing gently, green eyes flicker open, irises dilate confused at the gentle light surrounding him in a silvery-white glow. Blinking, it was then inside he felt it, a tight burning sensation, as though his whole body was ready to combust into flame right there and then.

With a groan, the warden heaved himself onto his side and then paled as it registered just what that burning feeling inside had been displaying and trying to tell his instincts this whole time.

Right around the black-haired elf’s body and a good few feet away was a summoning circle. A _Reverse Summoning Circle_ to be more exact, to summon whatever you wanted was inside as long as you had the power and control to do so. Distance was matched by power and as long as you had something that belonged to that which you wanted to summon, nothing could stand in your way to getting what you want.

Gasping breaths as it got harder to breathe, Hadrian pulled himself up as quickly as he could, ignoring his wound as it split and burst once again, the sealed skin opening like a ripe banana being torn apart. Blood coated the elf's inner thighs and dripped down his legs to the ground, as the man tried desperately to get out of the circle. But it was like trying to wade through running water.

Then his leg collapsed underneath, ripping a cry of anger from the male's tense form. Pushing up onto hands and knees, stretched a hand out, concentrating on the fiery spark inside, but even that did not work. This spell was cutting off all avenues.

Green eyes watched in horror as the light got brighter and yelled out to Zevran with all his heart.

Then the cavern, the Thaig and everything Hadrian knew vanished in a blinding glow of white light.

–---¬=@;#<{+HP+DA+}>#;@¬-----

_ Not a Minute later with Zevran:  _

“ _ZEVREN_!” It echoed deep in his ears the fear within his Amore's voice before being stolen away. It was unlike anything he had heard within Hadrian's voice before. Never had he heard the other elf scream out like that, in such terror and fear.

The blond elf’s lips were pressed tightly against one another as he stared down at the ground where the black-haired elf had lain, fingers wrapped tightly around the leather-wrapped hilt of his two daggers to keep from punching a wall in frustration.

“Zevren?” Alister's voice was not a welcome distraction at this time, though the female mage beside him may have the answers he needed. “We heard the Warden's scream and came as fast as we could. Where is he?”

“Assassin?” At her sharp query, the blond turned and looked over his shoulder at them both. Alistair was covered head to toe in darkspawn blood once more, indicating there had been quite a lot following the group. The mage was, as always, impeccable, her sharp eyes flickering over the area taking in the scene with an emotionless gaze.

“What happened Zev?” Alistair said again.

“Observe beneath your feet my friend.” He said as he turned and gestured at the intricate markings, which had been seemingly burned into the ground, and the blood that showed where Hadrian had lain. His outline was still warm from having been there only moments before. A thin stretch of black indicated that the Warden had reached out trying to escape his fate just before he had been whisked away by this strange, most unholy of magicks. The air itself seemed to buzz with energy.

Morrigan bent down, fingers brushing the charred ground. Sparks flickering from her fingers at the touch, fluttered down caused her to flinch back. “Such Dark magic tis this I have ever seen, through my mother I have heard rumour this has been performed many a time.”

“You know what magic this is then?”

“Tis a Reverse Summoning Spell. Not one of this realm though, the glyphs are far too strange for our tongue.”

“I care not for the magic of this spell. Just tell me where my Amore has disappeared to!” Bit out Zevren as he turned away, fingers white around the hilt of his dagger which weighed comfortingly in his palm. The other blade was still within its sheath on his hip, the blonds left hand curled into a fist as sharp eyes traced over that blacked mark which was shaped exactly in Hadrian's form. Clearly from the shape, as Zevran could see, the dark-haired elf had struggled to get away with his wounded thigh. But had failed and only time to yell for the blond before the magic had erupted beneath him and ensnared his form to spirit him away.

' _Amore…_ ' He thought, fingers clenched. ' _ Wait for me  _ _! I will find where you have gone. And if you have been hurt in any way, retribution will be swift._ '

_**Thus Ends One Story For Now.**_ ****

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> Thedas's Elven.  
> Child – Dal'en  
> Papa/Dad - Ada
> 
> Zevran's Language.  
> Love/Affection/Fondness/Darling/Dear - Amore  
> My Shadow - la mia ombra  
> Rest now/Hour of Rest. Play later? - Ora di riposo. Riproduci in seguito?


End file.
